


Laces and Frills

by iroiroriro



Series: Sunny days at Garreg Mach [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Alternate Universe - Nothing Bad Happens, Crack, Crossdressing, Dresses, F/M, Feelings, Ferdinand's Dad is an asshole, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, but only at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-07 16:56:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20979260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iroiroriro/pseuds/iroiroriro
Summary: There's something...suspiciousabout Ferdinand lately.For the sake of Lady Edelgard, Hubert must find out...willfind out and put a stop to whatever he is doing.





	Laces and Frills

**Author's Note:**

> Yes- you read _that_ AU tag. 
> 
> It doesn't really have anything to do with whatever happens in this fic but I just wanna say that in this timeline, Edelgard doesn't do the Flame Emperor thing
> 
> so there's really no big scheming and stuff happening in the background and THAT'S why Hubert can worry about mundane stuff like this
> 
> i guess  
  
__  
pls i just want everyone to get their diplomas and graduate normally

Hubert is seething.

No, no- step back, he has nothing to seethe about yet so forget that. He's merely... a little pissed. A tiny bit irritated. Not seething, no.

He won't give the young Aegir the pleasure of receiving that just yet. 

Hubert looks down at the package and feels his eye twitch. He really has no care about Ferdinand's personal life, whatever he does in his own time does not concern him-

-Unless it gives Lady Edelgard problems.

This, undoubtedly, will give Lady Edelgard problems.

Although not out in the great open, hushed whispers and gossips of the Duke of Aegir's many affairs are known throughout Adrestia. He believed Ferdinand, with all of his irritating tirades about nobilty, would never be like his father, but _this_...

Hubert glares down at intricately sewn lace stockings, resting inside the ribboned parchment he has carefully opened. Beautiful waves of ink depicting flowers and patterns line outside the animal skin, a gorgeous wrapping for an even more gorgeous gift.

_This_ changes things.

For several weeks now, his... _Eyes_ that roam around the shadows of Fódlan have reported various packages from all over the continent, mysteriously getting delivered to the minister's son in the depths of the night. Surely, boxes of fine clothing from different tailors are the least of his worries but he can't help but be suspicious when the younger noble is so secretive about these purchases.

His curious gathering of information led to finding out about orders of custom-made pieces- jewelry, accessories and a few dresses. All of the best quality available and in varying sizes.

Now why would Ferdinand need those? He'd understand if Ferdinand were attempting to court a maiden- no doubt he'll shower her with gifts- but having dresses made in different sizes and never the same measurements?

This is not just one maiden.

Hubert can't help but think of the Duke of Aegir's many women, his corruption, and how Ferdinand, since he was a mere child, had to live through such an environment. Ferdinand- bright as the sun, noblest of all nobles with a smile that can melt even the coldest of ice and eyes that can capture any woman's heart- although it is hard to imagine...

Something at the back of his mind says that such a thing is _impossible_, his stomach repulsing at the mere thought of such an idea-

-But anything is possible when it comes to situations as this. There's a lot of darkness one can hide behind the brightest of smiles. Hubert will need to hear a good enough explanation from Ferdinand before he decides if the orange-haired noble has a place in the Adrestia his Lady Edelgard plans on reforming once she's seated as Emperor.

He hears footsteps approaching and, instead of swiftly closing the box and retying the ribbon, instead of soundlessly leaving the room as if he were never even there, he waits.

In the midst of the dark, messy room, _Ferdinand's_ room, Hubert gives the ladies' garment a last look before he walks to a distant corner, leaving the gift open on the table. The package was easy to spot earlier: hidden under a breastplate among the mix of armor parts strewn on the floor, the tip of the ribbon peeking out as if asking to be found. No doubt, Ferdinand's eyes would naturally gravitate to it once he enters.

The door opens and Ferdinand shuffles in, feet noisy. He's really not meant for stealth.

He shrugs off his hood and throws it on the back of a chair, his other hand clutching a new package, wooden this time. A candle is lit as Ferdinand absent-mindedly hums a tune and, just as Hubert expected, freezes in his steps when he notices the open package on the table.

The younger noble approaches it- mind blank- but before he can touch the parchment, a voice calls to him.

"Ferdinand," said noble whips around just in time to see Hubert step out of the darkness and into the range of the candlelight. Amber eyes widen, comically darting from Hubert to the stockings then back to him. Belatedly, he hides the wooden box behind him as if Hubert hasn't seen it already, eyes darting around in panic. Hubert just frowns in disappointment at the display. If he's doing something immoral, he should at least make an effort to do so properly.

"Hubert! What- what are you doing here, may I ask? It's quite late for a visit, isn't it?" Ferdinand's voice is a full octave higher than normal. Hubert's eye twitches at the grating sound.

"Leave the pleasantries, Ferdinand. Explain to me what that is," Hubert motions to the stockings with a sharp movement of his head, hands resting behind him. The smaller noble audibly gulps. "O-oh, that? What about it? It's just a gift. For someone. Not at all important," Ferdinand stutters out, confirming what Hubert is thinking.

Anger fills the Vestra as he leers, heavy serpentine daggers piercing through Ferdinand as the smaller noble freezes, wondering what he said wrong.

"A gift, huh? Quite a bold choice to buy a woman _lace_ _stockings_ for a gift. Did she tell you her size or do you just know it?" Ferdinand jolts at the accusation as Hubert walks around him, circling him like a predator would a prey. The Aegir can't help but keep a maintained distance as the Vestra approaches him, effectively changing their positions.

He belatedly realizes that he's much farther from the door now, the taller noble standing between him and his only means of escape. Should he _need _to, he can just shove the mage to the side effortlessly, right? Unless Hubert unsheathes a dagger and decides to end him here, of course. "Tell me, is _that_ a gift for someone too?" Hubert raises his chin as if looking down on him more. Ferdinand reluctantly moves the box from behind him to show Hubert.

"Y-yes! Yes, it's for a friend of mine," he quickly hears his error after it leaves his mouth. "_They_\- I mean! They're for a friend of mine, see," Ferdinand opens the box slightly to reveal what looks like a pair of white shoes. Hubert doesn't get the chance to see their details and craftsmanship for the Aegir closes it immediately after a short peek.

Hubert's squints in suspicion at the odd behavior.

"Her birthday is approaching, and I've noticed that she's been eyeing them for a while," he says with a practiced tone, similar to an actor reciting his script. If Hubert hadn't known that both of those things are custom made, he would've believed him. It's quite so... _Ferdinand-_like to do such a thing after all.

Hubert hums, his normally lime-gold eyes shining yellow from the candlelight. "How thoughtful of you to give her a whole ensemble as a gift," he remarks, seeing the other noble's eyes widen for a milisecond before letting out a laugh, tainted with confusion and anxiety.

"I'm afraid I do not know what you're talking about," the Aegir isn't very good at lying. The way he acts is too theatrical, exaggerated. More suited for an opera singer on a stage- singing his feelings to the audience- than a liar cornered by a spymaster in a dark room. Hubert steps closer and Ferdinand steps back, jolting when he feels his calf ghost against the blanket messily strewn on the side of his bed.

He gives the bed a panicked look, hands tensing around the box before looking back at Hubert.

The action makes the edge of Hubert's mouth quirk up, head leaning to the side in a too playful smirk. _How obvious_, the words are basically painted on the Vestra's face, displayed on purpose for the Aegir to see. Ferdinand could almost hear him say it in the condescending tone he always uses when he's winning a debate against him.

It reminds Ferdinand of a cat playing with its prey before eating it- he can't help but feel revolted at the thought of the Vestra enjoying himself with... _this_.

What a disgraceful torture this is.

Another step closer and Ferdinand recoils back, hitting the bed and falling on it in defeat. "_I-I'm sorry,"_ finding himself caught, the younger noble slightly ducks his head down in shame, voice small. Hubert's cocky expression slips away, replaced by a dangerous glower.

"If you know that what you're doing is scandalous then you shouldn't have done it in the first place," he hisses, disgust evident in his voice. Ferdinand lowers his head further, his chest stinging and his jaw clenching tight.

"After all your insufferable speeches about _duty_ and _nobility_, to think you'd do such outrageous deeds," Hubert all but spits at him as Ferdinand gulps, throat tight and painful as tears start to well up in his eyes. He's such a fool, how idiotic of him to think that he can finally be- just a little bit- true to himself here-

"You keep saying that your father's acts are ignoble and that you refuse to be like him when here you are acting _exactly_ like the man you claim to hate," Ferdinand stills, head snapping up and blinking back the wetness in his eyes.

"...What?" The Aegir squeaks and Hubert scoffs at the sight of the other noble in-front of him, honey eyes gleaming with unshed tears. "Is that how you got all those women too? Through looking at them with your big shining eyes and through your whispered flowery words and your youthful, endearing attitude-" he gets cut off by a shocked "Wait- women?? What women?! What are you talking about??" as Ferdinand stands back up, the box haphazardly left tumbling on the bed, its contents slightly spilling out.

White kitten heel shoes, high quality and beautifully made with someone inexperienced in mind.

Hubert glares at Ferdinand. "You know what I'm talking about," he steps closer but this time, Ferdinand stays in place, looking up at him in confusion. "Ordering jewelry, accessories- _dresses_ of different measurements? Who else would you give them to but your collection of women that could only grow the more gifts you attain," the Vestra's voice is filled with venom yet Ferdinand finds himself not stung by it, the only reason of him blanching being the great realization that-

-He _did** not**_ properly think this through.

"Hubert, I would _**never!**_" Ferdinand gasps, aghast. "This is simply a misunderstanding-" he starts to say but stops, heart halting upon the dawn of choices currently presented to him. This is truly a misunderstanding but if he denies this, what would he say? The truth? Another fabricated story that he can't probably hold on to under Hubert's lie-detecting gaze?

He opens his mouth only to close them again, amber eyes lifting up to search a seething, serpentine one. Hubert's anger makes his stomach drop.

"Oh? A misunderstanding? Humor me with the truth then, _Ferdinand_," he hisses. It takes a short while, probably around fifteen seconds before he could answer, but those fifteen seconds felt like an hour as Ferdinand weighs his choices and finds himself cornered to only one lest he digs himself an even deeper grave.

"They're mine," he looks up at the taller noble, preparing for the judgment that would no doubt come.

Hubert scoffs. "Are you really unable to come up with a better lie?" He looks down at Ferdinand, spitting with an incredibly venomous tone. "How desperate can you be, von Aegir?"

"But it's the truth! They really aren't gifts for anybody. I... I bought them for myself. All of them are still here, see?" at that, Ferdinand suddenly drops to the floor- making the Vestra jolt in surprise- and rummages under his bed, pulling a big chest out and unclasping its lid. Opening it reveals a messy tangle of shirts, dresses and petticoats.

Hubert narrows his eyes as the chest is pushed towards his direction before Ferdinand ducks under the bed again, pulling out a smaller one and opening it to reveal an- _incredibly_ _messier_\- array of jewelry and accessories.

The Vestra eyes the two chests presented to him, internally cringing at the state of the containers. The items are haphazardly thrown in the cases, some clothing looking incredibly wrinkly and a handful of shiny trinkets and gaudy jewelry undoubtedly needing hours of work to detangle from one another.

It's so incredibly... Ferdinand.

But he refuses to be tricked by this sudden twist. For all he knows, these are just well done props to fool whoever discovers his deeds and questions him.

"I don't believe you," he says, carefully watching the Aegir's face. Ferdinand frowns and sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "It's the truth. They're all here. Do these look presentable enough to still be gifted for you?" _A__bsolutely not_. "What else should I do to prove that they're mine?"

At that, Hubert straightens, humming to himself before training his gaze down at the mess of fabrics infront of him. He reaches down to grab a few garments that aren't tangled with everything else, throwing them at Ferdinand who catches them in his arms, eyes blinking and dumbfounded.

"If they really are yours, then they should fit you, yes?" _And you should know how to properly wear them- _He smirks at the shocked look on the Aegir's face.

Ferdinand, mind delayed, looks down at the pile in his arms before looking back at the expectant Vestra who looks so damn satisfied with himself.

He bites the inside of his cheek before tossing the clothes on the bed and starting to unbutton his jacket uniform, pointedly looking away at Hubert whose whole focus is on him.

Hubert was fully expecting Ferdinand to fumble, to embarrass himself after trying and failing to properly wear the amalgamation of fabric he handed to him- not... _actually_ do it _right._ His brows furrow more and more as the Aegir proceeds to don the ensemble with practiced movements, hastily tying the ribbons that attach the yellow petticoat to his waist and buttoning up a green dress shirt over it before adjusting the red ribbons on an orange dress not so delicately to finish as fast as he can.

His body fills the dress nicely- almost- Hubert muses, if not for the rush he's in. Biceps are covered with mint elbow length balloon sleeves, frills cascading halfway down to his forearms. Ferdinand frowns and looks down at the messy trunk, contemplating whether he should dig in. Hubert moves forward and fishes out a pair of long silk gloves, untangling them from what looks like a veil- _a **veil**_, his mind almost halts at the information- before tossing them at Ferdinand. 

The Aegir gives him a distrusting look, letting out a huff of air from his nose before donning the garment, sliding his hands through the smooth material and grimacing as he looks down at himself afterwards.

He must look ridiculous.

Each piece Hubert has given him does not match at all. The colors are too bright, clashing with each other and reminding him of a jester. He can't help but want to sink through the floor under the taller noble's scrutinizing gaze, anxiously waiting for the Vestra's judgement.

Hubert looks him up and down, searing everything in his mind. The orange dress kind of matches his hair, the intricate embroidery of red roses and golden leaves decorating it suiting him very well and matching his eyes. He picked the garments at random but it seems the yellow petticoat matches the orange. Although out of place, the green actually looks... quite adorable on him. If he has to choose, then he'll pick something white to pair the green with, something like... a veil. He believes he'd look even more breathtaki-

**"You look like a carrot."**

Ferdinand gets an overwhelming urge to punch Hubert.

"And whose fault do you think is it?" The Aegir huffs as Hubert circles around him, hands linked behind him as he assesses the mismatched ensemble's fit on the shorter noble' body. All of Ferdinand's flaws suddenly stand out to himself, the way the middle of the dress folds due to the lack of assistance when he tied the ribbon at the back, how crumpled the frills are due to his lack of care- since he does not know how to fold the puffy dress shirt properly- and all other tiny things that makes him pull on the sleeves in an attempt to cover his biceps, adjusting the silk gloves restlessly to shield muscular forearms, pulling on the bottom of the skirt and smoothing it down.

"Your hair can't hold this up, it's not long enough," Ferdinand jolts and turns around to see Hubert fishing out a small gold comb from the smaller chest, a white fabric rose with red tassels decorating it. "Yes but the volume's thick enough to not let it fall unless I move too wildly," he takes the comb from Hubert's hands before tucking it in his hair, the accessory staying in place as Ferdinand sways his head from side to side to prove his point.

A gloved hand mindlessly lifts to Ferdinand's face, moving a stray hair to the side as the back of the Vestra's fingers ghost down a sun-kissed cheek. Ferdinand feels his breath stop.

A beat passes and Hubert swiftly retracts his hand as if burned, stepping away and coughing into his fist before turning around to look for something else to occupy himself with. His eyes land on lace stockings.

_Wait-_

"And this? It's too beautifully packaged to not be a gift, is it not?" Hubert has the garment in his hands before Ferdinand could stop him. He's not... going to make him wear that too, right? "I order most of them as gifts. Just in case," Ferdinand reasons. Hubert approaches him with a hum, stockings in tow.

Ferdinand's face colors as the lace stockings are pushed into his hands. He simply looks down at them, lips pursed, before looking up at the Vestra who's looking at him expectantly.

"Can you at least turn around?" Hubert's eyebrow raises at the request, Ferdinand already changed his clothes in-front of him after all. He takes a step back nevertheless, turning around as the smaller noble sits on the bed to put them on properly.

He's worn stockings before but not lace ones. He doesn't know if they're meant to feel this tight or if he ordered them in the wrong size, his toes snagging on the holes every now and then as the garment stretches around his muscular legs alarmingly.

Hubert would only see his calves because of the length of the petticoat, thankfully. His thighs look like they're one stretch away from ripping the poor thing apart.

Ferdinand carefully stands up to avoid tearing it and clears his throat. Hubert turns around at the sound and looks at him up and down, brows furrowing. Ferdinand makes a face, a hand reaching to rub on his elbow as he looks away from the taller noble. The Vestra really enjoys making fun of him like this, huh? What's he going to say next- that he looks like he's fresh from the marketplace, ready to be thrown in a vegetable stew?

Hubert walks past him and beelines to the bed- a weird, wheezing horse sound leaving Ferdinand's throat as he sees the Vestra hook a finger in the opening of his newly received package, pulling it closer and fishing out a pair of white, kitten heeled shoes, decorated with a pastel pink lining and wide straps around the ankles to avoid them slipping off. Again, clashing with the rest of his clothes. Does Hubert not really have an eye for these things or is he just doing this on purpose?

"You're really dolling me up, aren't you? Do you not have anything better to do?" Ferdinand snaps at Hubert who simply regards to him with a tilt of his head. "I assure you, I'd rather be anywhere else right now. Should this little scandal of yours escalate, however, it will be a problem for Lady Edelgard, which is why I'm here to contest if you're telling the truth," he then unceremoniously drops down on one knee and yanks Ferdinand's foot up, making the Aegir yelp and grab on his shoulder for balance.

Ferdinand's face heats up as the Vestra oh so casually feels the material of the stocking around his calves, testing its give by hooking his thumb under it- or trying to. It's stretched too tight for the Vestra to pull away and snap against the other noble's skin, which is what Ferdinand thinks he was initially planning to do.

Hubert just resigns by thumbing at the lace to feel its texture before helping the Aegir put a shoe on. The moment his foot nestles into it fully, Ferdinand's eye twitches, suppressing a wince. It's a tight fit, just what he'd expected from a shoe like this, but it makes the stocking press harder into his skin, tightly woven threads painfully slipping and digging under his toenails. Should he have upsized?

After securely locking the straps, Hubert places Ferdinand's foot down to lift the other one. A pained hiss leaves the Aegir's lips before he can stop it, hand tightening its hold on Hubert's shoulder as said noble immediately drops Ferdinand's foot, noticing how he puts all of his weight on the free sole while keeping the other slightly off of the floor.

Hubert lifts a hand to push the dress forward- resting it on the Aegir's knee- before looking up, courteously avoiding an accidental peek up his dress. "Does it hurt?" He carefully watches the other noble's face.

<strike>_Yes__ it does._ </strike>"Of course not," Ferdinand scoffs, exaggerated. Hubert rolls his eyes and unclasps the shoe again despite Ferdinand's protests. He feels nails dig on his shoulder as he carefully tries to pull the threads out from where they're agonizingly digging in the middle of nails. Hubert clicks his tongue in annoyance as they stay in place, attempting to soothe Ferdinand's toes and noting the biting that the stocking's intricate designs are doing with every movement of the smaller noble's leg, pinching and leaving red marks in their wake. "You don't have to do that," Ferdinand complains and receives a glare. "Don't order from this tailor again. Beautiful as the designs are, it's not worth having welts on your skin," he chastises before pulling a dagger seemingly out of nowhere.

A single swipe is all it takes for the stocking to unlatch from its suffocating hold, making Ferdinand sigh in relief as he wiggles his toes freely. Hubert does it to the other side too before sheathing the blade back into his uniform, running a gentle hand over a deep mark from the earlier chafing. There goes 5,000 gold.

The shoes are more comfortable this time- although Ferdinand finds it hard to balance because of the kitten heels. His heavy hold on Hubert's shoulder is pretty much the only reason he's staying upright.

Finally, Hubert stands up and steps back, lifting a hand to rest under his chin as he looks Ferdinand up and down.

What's more to see? Hasn't the Vestra already pretty much accepted that the garments aren't gifts when he decided to cut his stockings into glorified leggings and scold him?

Hubert's eyes drift to the chest of fabrics again and Ferdinand finds that he's had enough.

He steps forward to- who knows- stop him? Quarrel with him? Whatever it is, it didn't happen because Ferdinand's shaky feet fails him like a newborn fawn trying to take its first step.

His ankle bends to the side and he yelps as he loses his balance, Hubert immediately stepping forward to catch him and hold him up so he won't fall to the floor. He steadies himself with a grumble and stops when he feels hands squeeze on either side of his waist.

Oh.

_Oh dear._

He finds himself unable to look up at the other man as Hubert moves his hands up and down his sides, trying to smooth out the creases of the fabric on his middle. His heartbeat stops as fingers pull on the ribbon behind him, loosening the dress. "H-hubert?" He slowly looks up only to find the other eyeing something over his shoulder. "Stay still," the taller noble suddenly moves to stand behind him, flattening the fabric against his stomach and his sides before adjusting the way the ribbon laces behind him. The Aegir lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Relief slowly turns into impatience. Ferdinand hovers his arms, awkwardly staying in place as the other smooths the folds of the dress to make it more prim and neat, letting wandering hands travel around his mid-section. He gets grumbles of "_Stop moving_," and "_Don't_," every now and then whenever he sways off balance or shakes in place.

The Vestra gives his waist one last pat down before he steps back and admires his handiwork, the Aegir carefully running his fingers over the securely linked ribbons on his sides and on his back. The dress perfectly hugs his torso and he's almost impressed at how Hubert made it fit so flawlessly. Almost. He still doesn't like this stunt he's pulling on him.

Hubert twirls him around to face him and Ferdinand can't help but stumble a little. The Aegir lets out an exasperated huff as he raises his hands in defeat. "Are we done now? I suppose you believe me now, yes?" He asks, grumpily resting his hands on his waist and raising his shoulders to show that he's _pissed_. He would've stepped forward and taunted Hubert right at his face or impatiently tapped his foot on the floor noisily but he can barely move without falling out of balance.

"Not quite," Ferdinand scrunches his nose at Hubert's reply. What else does he want to see? 

"If they really are yours, why would you order them in different sizes? You wouldn't have problems with adjusting everything manually through countless laces and ribbons if you didn't," Hubert narrows his eyes at him and Ferdinand frowns. "Like I said, I order most of them as gifts just in case," Ferdinand whines as he lets himself fall to sit on the bed, the sound of the lace tearing at the seams obscured by the loud creak. _Ah, he has forgotten about that._ He simply gulps around the lump in his throat and sighs in defeat, wiggling his feet side to side as the edges of his lips shakily point down despite willing them not to. He doesn't really care about it anymore. He hates how his eyes are starting to water. He just wants to rip it off of him and sleep.

"Just in-case what?" Hubert stands directly in-front of him and crosses his arms. Ferdinand turns his head away and keeps his eyes trained at the wall as he answers.

"Just in-case my father discovers."

Hubert stills.

Ferdinand spares a peek and gets the pleasure of seeing a million emotions filter through Hubert's face. He would've felt smug about it if only the emotions weren't directed at him.

"...Oh," the Aegir watches as Hubert's eyes roam the room- from the mess of armor parts in the corner to the bright chests of jewels and fabrics before landing on him, sitting in a stupid, mismatched dress with his torn, overpriced stockings and his feet raw and sore just from standing in barely-high heels.

"_**...Oh,**_" Hubert dumbly says again. Something weighs heavily in his chest as his eyes widen. His mouth opens and closes, unable to find words as Ferdinand looks up at him with wet eyes that have never spilled so far tonight. He doesn't plan on letting them do so.

This is the first time Ferdinand got the Vestra speechless. He thinks he would've felt happier about it if only it didn't happen at the expense of his own pride. The only thing he feels at the sight of it is dejection.

"I order everything in different sizes so that if my father finds out about these... _purchases_, he wouldn't be able to track that they are for me and I can get out of it by saying that they are gifts for different women instead," he want to put his legs on the bed and hug them close but the stupid stockings are digging on his skin and limiting his movements. He hunches down and clutches his dress instead.

"Ah, but then you discovered about it and what do you know, you actually believed so! Which means he probably would've too had he found this out since you're much smarter than him- so I'll call that a win for me," Ferdinand laughs but falters when he looks up, seeing Hubert's eyes narrow at him.

"I-I'm sorry, I know that this will cause a scandal and yet, I still-" Serpentine's eyes widen a fraction, darting between his own. "I'll... find a way to get rid of them so please don't tell this to any-"

"**_DON'T_-**"

The two nobles jolt as Hubert cuts him off in a tone louder than he intended.

"...Don't. You don't have to," Hubert licks his lips and Ferdinand can almost hear him overthink. "There is nothing wrong with what you are doing," Ferdinand laughs at that, ducking his head to look at his feet. Hubert growls as he drops down in the middle of Ferdinand's knees, making the younger noble jolt. Hands latch on and squeeze his biceps, the pressure grounding him. "_There is nothing wrong with what you are doing_," he repeats, harder- angrier- but not directed at him.

Ferdinand laughs, mirthless, before huffing and letting his head fall forward to rest on Hubert's shoulder, feeling the older noble tensing. "Thank you, Hubert," it was no more than a whisper and had Hubert not been holding his breath, he would've missed it.

They stay like that for a while before Ferdinand sits back, sighing and looking down at himself. He should probably change his clothes already. Hubert must have read his expression as something else however because, all of a sudden, his hands are on Ferdinand's knees, squeezing.

"I'll buy you a new one."

Ferdinand's head snaps up, meeting Hubert's alarmingly serious face. "What?" "I'll buy you a new one and not from the tailor who made this... _thing_. There are plenty of lace stockings that can accent your beauty without being painful and suffocating. I can get you different colors should you allow me to-" Ferdinand flushes before stopping him. "No- what- Hubert, you don't have to!! It's- wait- what did you just-"

But Hubert suddenly shushes him, body in full alarm. Loud clicks of heels can be heard, dashing down the hallway with a chatter of poorly concealed voices. Quick as the wind, Hubert is closing the chests and pushing them under the bed, hiding Ferdinand's uniform under the messy sheets in one swift movement. A wind spell blows the candle on the table out as the mage reaches for the packages and kicks them to a far corner of the room.

Before Ferdinand can even register what's happening, the door handle is turned-_ he only realizes now that he has forgotten to lock it_\- and he's pulled from his position on the bed, falling against Hubert's back as the door opens.

"Goddess, Ferdie, you won't believe what we just-" 

Dorothea and Hilda stills as they meet face to face with a glowering Hubert, hiding a maiden behind him as the door slams close with a loud, room-shaking bang- or maybe that's just their minds tricking them to jolt awake from how awkward this situation they've ran into is.

The diva casts a light spell and blinks at the presence of the tall noble before her. "...Hubie? What are you-"

"Dorothea. Hilda. What business do you deem so important to warrant barging into my room in the middle of the night?" Venom drips from the Vestra's voice as he stands straighter, the maiden behind him trying to hide better but to no avail, the edges of her bright, frilly dress peeking out from either side of the dark mage.

"...Your room? What are you talking about? This is Ferdie's-" Dorothea regards their surroundings only to freeze, not finding the telltale mess of armor parts on the floor where they usually are. Neat arrangements of books are on the shelves, stacks of paper and notebooks are on the table, and vials of liquid and equipment are tucked in the corner.

"Oh. _Oh. Oh shit_\- Holy- _Woah!_ Sorry, Hubert! We didn't mean to cockblock you!" Hilda all but bellows as Dorothea blanches. A litanny of apologies follow as they take their time to leave, Dorothea fumbling on the- _mysteriously locked-_ doors while Hilda keeps on looking back and trying to take a peek at what the girl looks like.

Finally, Hubert grumbles and carefully approaches the bed, pulling his blanket to cover the maiden with- much to Hilda's dismay- before stalking forward and almost throwing the two ladies out.

He closes the door and hears more muffled apologies before turning around to regard the other noble in the room- only to hear a pair of loud screams from the other side followed by the sound of the two girls' heels hitting pavement as they run away in record speed, Seteth's shout of _"What are you two doing out this late at night?!" _echoing in the halls.

Ferdinand peeks out from the blanket cocoon Hubert covered him with, a deep flush in his face. Hubert looks back and Ferdinand blinks, not knowing if he's imagining the slight hue on Hubert's cheeks or not.

"I'll warp you back to your room so uncover yourself. Lest you want to bring my blanket with you," he says and Ferdinand does so with a little laugh.

He could feel the oncoming jump of dark magic enveloping him before it retreats, Hubert still in-front of him. Ferdinand blinks and looks around, finding himself still in Hubert's room, still seated on the Vestra's bed. "Right, I almost forgot. Before I send you back-" Hubert tilts his head to the side.

"Tell me your actual measurements first."

🔆🔅☀🔅🔆

_~Laces and Frills~_

_<strike>btw here's a stupid sketch i made for this thing</strike>_  


**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, Hilda and Dorothea are gossip friends here lol
> 
> Anyways, thank you for reading!!  
Hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> ✨✨✨✨


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